That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]


Chapter 29: That one time I jumped into a duck pond.

"Fred! Over here!"

Rose waved from where she was leaning against the wall next to the Visitor's Entrance window. The shop display still held about four or five decrepit, crumbling dummies in clothes that had apparently walked right out of the 1920s. You'd think that St. Mungo's would switch up their Muggle covers every now and then, just to make things a bit livelier! Buuuut if there's anything I know about the magical world, it's that wizards were slow and hated change. I dashed to meet up with her and my cousin hugged me happily once I was near enough.

"Always good to see you, my dear Idiot Twin Number 1," Rose grinned.

"Gosh, I get to be Number 1?" I asked in mock happiness.

"Don't tell James."

"I won't," I gestured with my head down the street. "C'mon, let's get lunch."

I was glad I'd owled her. Rose certainly looked like she could use a break. Her freckly face was a little pale, and her red curls were tied back in a misshapen mess, but let's face it, we all know it's because Rose literally never stops working. The hospital gained a spectacular Healer when she joined, but I dunno how Scorpius puts up with it … then again, I don't understand anything about the two of them, so perhaps they'd perfected some weird secret Thing over the years that helped. Who knew? Luckily, Rose had still seemed happy to meet up when I'd owled her the other day, and she linked her arm through mine, letting me lead her down the street.

"Not that I don't love hanging out with you, Fred," Rose mentioned lightly as we walked. "but why exactly are we doing this?"

"You mean I can't just call up my younger cousin out of the blue and ask her to have lunch with me?"

"Not without me thinking you want something," Rose smirked.

"You wound! Actually, I need a favour," I admitted.

"Knew it! But before you say anything, let it be known that I refuse to climb any more buildings with you," Rose pointed to a small jagged mark at her hairline, just above her left ear. "I literally still bear the scars from last time."

"Oh my god," I laughed, pausing to get a closer look. "You actually do have a scar! DAMN, that's impressive."

"It's not funny!" Rose said, but she was laughing too.

"Too bad you didn't scar your whole face," I teased and she whacked my hand away from where I was poking at her.

"It'll be a funny story that I absolutely will not be telling my children one day," Rose said. "Now, seriously. What favour do you want to ask?"

"Weeeeell …" I warbled. "You're not gonna like it, now that you've said all that."

Rose sighed. "You want to use my building to throw another party, don't you?"

"It's for mine and Emma's birthdays!" I said. "And honestly just that, I promise you. No climbing … much."

"FRED."

"Fine! No climbing, actually," I rolled my eyes. "Our actual birthdays are on a Thursday this year, so we were thinking the 12th July instead? That's the Saturday after."

"I don't think we're going anywhere, so it should be fine," Rose answered. "Is that all you needed to ask me? You could've just mentioned it in the owl!"

"I know, but the last time we hung out, you were high as fuck," I reminded her.

She snorted. "Oh, right."

"I dunno, I thought it might be nice to hang out. Whatever."

"I like this influence Emma's having on you, Fred."

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean."

"Yeah, yeah," Rose smiled. "C'mon, let's get food."

Rose's favourite café I knew was Julio, but that was all the way across the city near where she lived. And besides, while the place might hold nice memories for her, my few vivid moments I'd had there I was rather keen to forget about. I'd looked up places around this area, but apparently Rose already had her favourite spots picked out around her work and ended up dragging me to a sandwich shop that she liked. We sat in the window, eating together as she asked, "So Emma's doing good, yeah?"

"Last I checked," I asked in amusement. "Aren't you guy's friends? Like, you can just ask her yourself?"

"Yes, but sometimes we purposefully ask these things through others," Rose pointed out. "It's called being polite. Also, it is my job as a friend to report back everything you say."

"You know, Rosie, about 99% of the time, I never know when you are joking."

Rose laughed. "You're lucky to have that girl, Fred."

"She's not mine," I said.

"Of course not, but you know what I mean," Rose nudged my arm with her elbow, hands full of sandwich. "Trust me, I get it. If there's anyone who's the Queen of Complicated Relationships, I'm your girl!"

"You're MARRIED," I snorted.

"Yeah, but there's still an entire year of unaccounted time where we don't know whether we were together or not," Rose pointed out.

"What the hell year was this?"

"Fifth-year Hogwarts," Rose said, fondly. "There's the day we 'officially' got together in May, but Scorpius likes to argue the point that our entire fifth-year we were basically going out, we were just refusing to admit it. I can't quite remember a lot of the details now, school was bloody ages ago, but in this case Scorpius is probably right."

"You guys are fuckin' weirdoes. I love it."

"When did you and Emma get together?" Rose asked casually.

I choked on my sandwich.

Goddamn it, Rose! I hacked away over my plate as Rose just held out my glass of water innocently for me. Ohhhhh, bitch knew exactly what she was asking! I wouldn't have had the first clue how to answer her. Problem was … I think I had a day in mind. Well, there were actually several days and dates floating around the last few years, considering the many milestones and ridiculousness we'd been through.

But the day that stood out the most was that day back in late April, a few days after Rose's birthday party. The day I had taken Emma on a case with me, then kissed her later on my sofa. That had been when we'd started this whole new weird thing where we sleep together and actually keep communicating, and now Rose was talking about it as if … that's when we started going out.

Jesus Christ, am I actually dating someone?

But instead of, you know, actually addressing that spiralling question and have a legit mental breakdown right here in this shop, I managed to wave it off. "If there's anything I've learned, it's that Emma and I are about just as weird as you guys are," I said, hastily.

"Yeah, ok," Rose snorted. "but for the record, you're totally cute together."

"Gee, thanks."

"If you want, I could change the subject," Rose shrugged. "but I'm not entirely sure you'll like that, either."

I gave her a shrewd look as she stayed innocently chewing her sandwich. "You wanna hear about the latest family gossip, don't you?"

"I don't need any details," Rose said quickly.

"But also, please tell me everything, right?"

Rose gave me a small grin over the top of her sandwich and I sighed. Naturally, the latest Weasley Family Gossip was all about how Fred apparently arrested his sister's latest boyfriend. Because THAT doesn't make it sound too dramatic at all! I expected it, naturally, but I was still trying not to think about it and it didn't help when every second owl you get is from your mother, wanting to know what in god's name was going on.

DINNER. TONIGHT, her latest owl had said. And don't you even dare think about ignoring this owl, either! I know how your brain works, Fred Anthony Weasley. Your dad and I have hardly seen you at all lately, and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. And it's not just about your sister, ok? Your dad has stuff to talk to you both about as well. I don't want you not coming because you think you're going to be in trouble. You aren't above being in trouble (I am your mother after all!) but I do know that you are a grown adult now, as is Roxie. You are both capable of making your own decisions.

That being said, if you don't come tonight, I am grounding you.

Love Mum xoxo

So basically, I felt terrible about how I'd treated my sister, and yet was still refusing to apologise. Yeah, Mum, try explaining that one to ya.

"It wasn't as crazy as no doubt everyone's making it out to be," I grumbled.

"Lily told me that you arrested Roxie's ex for attempted murder," Rose mentioned.

"Damn it, Lily! There was no murder, attempted or otherwise!" I said exasperatedly. "Roxanne broke up with the bloke, he threatened to hurt her, I called in a favour and got my Auror mates to arrest him. That's all! I'm not hopeful on the charges sticking, though."

"Blimey," Rose said. "How come?"

"Roxanne's refusing to officially report it. She didn't exactly want me to call the Aurors."

"Why did you, then?"

"There was someone threatening my sister's life!" I said. "Of course I wasn't running in without back-up! But did Roxanne understand that? Noooo, of course she fucking didn't."

"So she's mad at you, then?"

"We're mad at each other. I don't know," I said. "We argued. She was unreasonable, but I said a lot of shitty stuff too. Basically, we're both terrible people and that's about where we're at, really."

"Oh, Fred," Rose reached out and squeezed my arm. "You're not terrible–"

"No offence, but you don't know what I said."

"I don't want to know," Rose said firmly. "Look, Fred, you are an idiot, but you always mean well. Whatever the hell was said, go fix it. You only have one sister."

"Yeah, I'll just do that."

Rose snorted, sitting back. "I figure it's easier said than done, right? Sorry."

"Nah, nah. You're fine," I said back. "You're right, naturally. It's just a lot easier to stay a stubborn arsehole than it is to stand up and face the consequences."

"I hear ya. Fifteen-year-old me was definitely an arsehole."

"Rosie, you could never be an arsehole, even if you tried," I scoffed.

"Have you met me?" Rose laughed. "I had to keep Scorpius in line somehow, mate!"

"Yeah, but let's face it, that man of yours has always been The Douchebag."

"True," Rose figured. "I'll forever rag on him for jumping headfirst into a new relationship about five seconds after breaking up with me."

Ah, The Break Up. The epic saga that I literally knew nothing about, just blindly supported Rose's side, because she was my cousin and she was family. We all remembered too well the time her and Scorpius dramatically broke up that one time and were subsequently back together six months later, but I'd never known exactly what had happened.

"Yeah, I never got that full story," I mentioned. "Although, now that I ask, do I even want to?"

"We laugh about it now," Rose grinned. "Oh please, let me tell it! James once spent a whole night telling me what felt like his and Libby's entire life story, so I can certainly match him."

"I hope you realise we don't have all night, here–"

"I'll paraphrase!" Rose must have seen the resolve slipping out of my eyes because as I gave an exasperated sigh, she began, "Yes! Ok, so you remember when we broke up, right? It was like two years ago or something now, we'd been having some issues – some resentment, lack of communication – communication is key, Fred!" Rose added, knowingly. "Anyway. We got into a stupid row, which turned into a rather nasty break up. You must've heard about it."

"Well, yeah, I know that part," I said. "I was on your side!"

Rose sniggered. "Thanks, I suppose. Anyway, we'd been together like six years at that point, so it was a big deal. Lots of tears. Lots of ice cream. Apparently my way of handling it was getting defiant and throwing myself into work even more, whereas Scorpius' was to leap into bed with literally the next woman who looked at him. Enter Sophie."

"I like Sophie!" I mentioned. I didn't really know the woman at all, apart from maybe flirting with her a little at Al and Bea's wedding, but I'd always gathered that she was utterly lovely. One of those perpetually smiley and adorable people who were basically human versions of puppies. Rose apparently agreed with this sentiment as she nodded and said,

"She is literally the nicest person ever, I love her to the moon and back," She took a breath. "Unfortunately, she was kissing my ex, so I was required to hate her. Didn't work out too well in the end, but at least I tried."

"I thought you and Scorpius were back together like barely a few months later?" I asked.

"Basically," Rose snorted. "Sophie wasn't blind, she figured it out. She dumped him, Scorpius got his act together and then we got married, bitch–!" I realised she was holding out a hand for me and I slapped her a high-five. "Well, the marriage happened a bit later, but that's basically the whole story."

"And you're still married, so you must like it."

"I love it," Rose said, fondly.

She loved him, I also took that to mean. Because yeah, as weird as Rose and Scorpius were, I'd never exactly doubted that they were still sickening, heart-eyes in love with each other. They didn't look the same as Al and Bea's adorable, traditional marriage, but I'd still never doubted them. Love didn't have to always go the same way every time, you know? I think I've clung onto the Al and Bea image of love all these years – I'm talking like, floating hearts, holding hands and butterfly kisses, that kind of gross thing – just so I could vehemently discard the idea. For what felt like most of my life, I'd told myself that that was what love was, that that was all love could be. Of course, that was a terrifying concept! What seventeen-year-old wouldn't be scared of that? It was hardly surprising that I had so fiercely rejected whatever Emma had made me feel for so long!

But Rose and Scorpius reminded me that love came in all shapes and sizes. One wasn't stuck to just one narrative, one way – love adapted and shaped itself so that it became something unique for each person. Whatever Emma and I had, it looked vastly different to any idea of love that I'd held onto. Maybe that was why I was slowly becoming ok with it.

Or … you know, some kind of eloquent bullshit like that.


I bid Rose a content goodbye once we finished lunch and she had to head back to work. "I'm looking forward to that birthday party! You better make it worth it!" she'd called over her shoulder and I'd yelled back that I'd make sure it was the time of her bloody life. I'd been intending on going back home, but I'd walked past a bakery along the way and paused.

"I don't know what on earth to say to Yael or Kayla next time I see them," I'd sighed at Emma earlier this morning. The entire Roxanne Debacle had been an utter fiasco.

"Don't say anythin'! Bake 'em a cake instead?"

"Yeah, like I'm gonna bake," I'd snorted, but I'd considered the idea. "I guess that might work, though."

"Exactly! Cake can say 'sorry' or 'thank you', I guess dependin' on which way you want to swing it."

I still didn't really know which way I wanted to swing it, but I made the snap decision and ducked into the bakery regardless. Fifteen minutes later, I was cruising through the Auror Office towards the Homicide Division, a boxed chocolate cake nestled inside the plastic bag in my hands.

"I come baring sugar!" I yelled as a greeting.

"How on earth does the receptionist keep letting you in?" Kayla asked in bemusement.

"Agatha loves me," I answered (although some cake might've also had something to do with it this time).

I'm pretty sure that Yael and Kayla were used to me randomly turning up out of the blue by now, anyway. I still liked to help consult (and by 'consult' I of course mean file paperwork) every now and then, and we had seemed to have hit a lull in active bail cases recently. Not to mention that my application to the office was literally only pending my results from the medical test at this point! I'd been told to expect a decision 'within 1 – 4 weeks of receiving the medical form' so you know … definitely any day, now.

The table Yael and Kayla usually occupied, I noticed, had apparently today been taken over by another group of Homicide Aurors. Usually, they got the huge table in the middle, accompanied by two whiteboards for posting photos and writing notes. However now, it seemed they'd been downgraded to a much significantly smaller table, shoved in between two pot plants, and if their faces were a reflection of the current location, then they weren't too happy about it.

"Bit cosy over here, isn't it?" I pointed out casually.

"DON'T EVEN START," Yael smacked his head against the table.

"The topic's still a bit sensitive," Kayla admitted.

"What happened?" I asked, placing the box of cake down on the table, before taking the seat next to Kayla.

"What else?" Yael complained.

"No leads?"

"No leads," he whined, rubbing his eyes. "Hell, we haven't even had a body turn up in weeks! Actually, it's probably months now, I forget – is that cake?"

"Freshly baked!" I said, cheerfully. "Well – I lie, it's store-bought, but it's the thought that counts. I figured I owed you guys one for the other night."

I thought Yael might actually cry at the thought of cake. "You have no idea how much I love you right now!"

"Whoa, there," I sniggered, shoving the box across the table towards him, Yael opening it eagerly. "Your girl's right next to me, remember?"

"Shut up," Kayla punched my shoulder, though she was smiling.

"But seriously, Reddale is still nowhere to be seen?" I asked them. "No more bodies, nothing?"

"Nuffin'," Yael mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

Kayla shot him a look as she accepted the piece he broke off for her. "It's a good thing that no one else has died, remember?"

"Yeah, except we have nothing to go off!"

"How is that any different from normal?" Kayla smirked.

Yael tossed a piece of icing at her from the other side of the table. "Shut it, you."

"Is that normal, though?" I asked. "Like … I'm assuming the whole reason the dude busted out of the courthouse in the first place was so he could keep revenge murdering folks?"

"We honestly don't know," Kayla answered me, since it was clear that Yael was too busy downing cake to be bothered. "Serial killers are a weird bunch to profile. There's many reasons Reddale might have suddenly stopped killing – he's moved cities, left the country, he's died himself, blah, blah – but it just doesn't fit his pattern. He's planning something, I'm sure of it …"

"Yael?" I prompted his input.

He glanced up vaguely, chocolate smeared into his beard. "Plannin' sumfin'! Yeah, sure o' it."

"The chocolate's a good look on you," Kayla mentioned.

"Remind me again later tonight."

"Ewwww! Look at you guys being all gross!" I grinned as Kayla flushed bright red. "It's disgusting! You're welcome."

"Shut up," Yael threw a whiteboard marker at my head, which made me laugh. He wiped at his mouth hastily, before starting to shuffle through the endless piles of papers and files on their bullpen table. "By the way," he began, pulling out a folder from underneath a pile of evidence photos. "I'm sorry, mate … but the Jack Tyler case was officially dropped."

I sighed as Yael handed the file over to me across the table. It had clearly been filled out by someone from the Family and Child Protection Division, but it hadn't gone any further than that. He'd been arrested and released less than 24 hours later. "Don't worry about it," I muttered. "We all knew that nothing would come of it."

"I know, but we're still sorry," Yael mentioned, gently.

"Is she still going out with that other bloke?" Kayla asked.

"I don't know! I haven't spoken to her at all since we arrested the guy," I said.

In fact, I barely spoke about my sister at all. What else could I say? Besides, I already had Emma trying to get me to get in touch with Roxanne again after I'd made the huge mistake of telling her everything that had happened. I didn't need anyone else on my case, so I only brought up the topic when necessary. I think it was easier for everyone if I just no longer spoke to my sister at all! Yep, that is certainly the best plan!

"Mate. That is the worst plan I've ever heard," Emma had scoffed.

"I know, just let me pretend for five seconds – GOD!"

Anyway. Look, I knew that having that conversation with my sister had to happen at some point, I just wasn't terribly keen on the idea, ok? The longer I could put off that conversation, the better! Yael and Kayla shot each other looks across the table at my irritated muttering, telepathically communicating in that weird way of theirs, and I just shoved more cake in their direction in exasperation. "I am stupid and immature! Yes, I know," I grumbled. "Please, stuff yourselves with more chocolatey goodness, in way of apology. I wasn't sure whether it was going to be for that or in thanks, but apparently I've got a lot I have to apologise for."

"You don't have to apologise to us, Fred," Kayla mentioned, pulling off a piece of cake.

"Your sister on the other hand …" Yael said.

"You know, she's done some stupid shit as well!" I felt the need to point out.

"True," Yael shrugged. "Still have to talk to her, though."

"Aw, what the fuck do you know?"

"Emma have anything to say about it?" Kayla asked.

"Did she ever. Oh, that reminds me, we're having a joint birthday party on the 12th of July! It's a Saturday, if you guys can make it you have to come," I insisted.

"Hmm, I dunno," Kayla smirked. "I still remember the last time we went to the same party."

"Yeah, and that ended with you guys getting acquainted with each other's mouths, thanks to me!" I said. "You should be leaping at the chance."

Kayla almost choked with laughter, hiding her face in her hands as Yael just paused, shrugged and ate more cake.

"How come a joint party?" he asked.

"Mine and Emma's birthdays happen to be on the same day," I answered.

"Well, we can't miss that," Yael was watching Kayla hide unsuccessfully, a grin on his face. "If we still don't have any leads at that point, you can bet we'll be there."

I helped Yael and Kayla finish off the entire cake together. Between the three of us, it was gone within the next ten minutes! I might not have regretted it at the time, but I certainly did when Huntley naturally tracked me down moments later and I no longer had anything to bribe people with.

"Yeah, yeah, let me guess - get out of your bullpen?" I rolled my eyes.

"You read my mind, Weasley," Huntley replied. "Also, I got a call from your boss. You haven't been answering your owls lately and apparently, the first thing Ferguson thought of was to find out if you'd been crashing the Homicide Division again. What a surprise to find you here! Get out, and get to work, Jesus Christ."

"What owls haven't I answered?" I demanded at the clear injustice. "I thought there had been a lull in cases! Goddamn it, Ravi ..." That demon owl was gonna pay someday.

Yael and Kayla just laughed and waved goodbye as I was banished from the office. You know, I've always thought it was just a personality quirk, but I'm starting to think that maybe I actually ought to get my bloody owl checked out sometime soon. When I got to the Bail Enforcement Office, it was to get my arse chewed out and then promptly sent to Chalk Farm to track down a bloke who had apparently assaulted someone at a concert.

"According to his statement, the other bloke said that 'The Stinging Nettles are trash, their music makes my ears bleed'," I scoffed down the phone as I flicked through the file. "Honestly, why go to the concert then, if you hate it so much?"

"Why do we do a lot of things?" Emma I'm sure was grinning.

"True. Sorry, I'll probably be waiting around for this bloke all night–" Suddenly, and with no warning, my phone started making a high-pitched screeching sound. Startled, I nearly dropped the damn thing onto the pavement outside the house I was staking out, Emma's tinny voice still squeaking from the earpiece. "What the hell–? Emma? Emma, this thing is completely fucked!" I complained.

"Fred? Fred – I can't hear you–"

"Yeah, no shit," I muttered, slamming buttons to no avail. Finally, something appeared to work and the thing shut up again. "Blimey!" I said, hesitantly bringing the phone back up to my ear. "That is why I never use this thing! I have a concealment charm over myself, that's probably why it's screwing up–"

"It seems that most of your communication methods are unreliable these days," Emma sniggered.

"Yeah, you know you're fucked when a cell phone is a more reliable method of communication than an owl."

"I'll let you go, then," Emma said. "Oh! Wait, hang on though, just in case you do happen to find this bloke before midnight, I'm actually heading to my parent's house tonight. We're having a dinner for Lockie's birthday."

"That's your nephew, right?"

"Yeah, and Lara keeps reminding us that we HAVE to be there, so if you get home early and I'm not there, that's where I'll be," There was a pause. Emma apparently got a little lost in her thoughts as I watched the house across the street. I didn't mind so much, since I was happy to just listen to her breathing, but eventually she added, "Um … you could also come, if you wanted."

And there was suddenly a crashing somewhere in my stomach.

"To your family dinner?"

"You'd be more than welcome," Emma insisted. "I swear! Mum and Dad never mind. Katie loves ya and no doubt Henry will stick to you like glue …"

She trailed off, as if she'd just realised that these weren't exactly reasons that would entice me to come. But the more I imagined it, the more I kind of thought that I … wanted to be there. Yes, my head was suddenly screaming and I felt like I might just throw up over the pavement of this suburb of North London any second, but … there was something primal about it. I think it was a blatant desire for the Terry's to like me. Which didn't make a lot of sense, because when the hell had I started caring about what other people thought of me? But the last image Emma's parents probably had of me was yelling and wincing in pain as their oldest son punched my face in, and that wasn't exactly a great first impression, right?

I opened my mouth to make the snap decision, yep, yes, I'm totally coming!

However, I was brought up short rather suddenly when I quickly remembered, oh shit. My parents wanted me to go have dinner with them tonight. The owl from Mum (naturally, her owl wasn't crazy and actually delivered stuff properly) was still scrunched up in my pocket from earlier. I sighed into the phone, prompting Emma to say my name questionably. She had to be stressing as much as me on the other end, so I reminded myself that I could have dinner with The Parentals literally any bloody time of the week. Actually, thinking further ahead, this could be exactly the kind of blow off excuse I needed to avoid my sister.

"Your brother isn't going to punch me again, is he?" I asked, only half-joking.

"Nah," Emma said, relief that I hadn't outright said no clear in her voice. "Only if he wants a punch back from me. 'sides, you haven't been a douchebag recently, have you?"

"You don't know what I get up to when we're apart," I quipped.

"Oh, well. In that case, you can face my brother's wrath."

"Considering that Ben immediately apologised about 50 times afterwards, I have a funny feeling that I won't be in that much danger," I said. "Your mother, on the other hand …"

"Yeah, yeah," Emma snorted. "Just … come, if you can. Ok? I'll leave the address here. No pressure, I know you've gotta work and stuff, I just thought …"

"Hey, nah, I'll come," I found myself saying. "If I can I'll – oh damn, I've gotta go!" I suddenly noticed a light turn on in the house across the street. "Someone's turned up, hopefully I can arrest a bugger and be there in time – before midnight, did you say?"

"Lockie will consume way too much sugar and finally crash about eleven so yeah," Emma laughed. "Go! Go get 'em."

I hung up, shoving the malfunctioning phone into my pocket, wand gripped tightly in my hand.

Time to arrest a bugger!


"NO FUCKIN' WAY!" Henry exclaimed.

"HENRY," Rebecca Terry yelled from the kitchen.

"… no fuckin' way," Henry repeated then in a stage whisper.

Like Emma's predictions, her youngest brother had indeed stuck to me like glue the entire evening so far. I'd thought at one point he would prise off Katie's fingers with a crowbar to get at me! Emma, the bastard, just laughed in the background as everyone lounged around the Terry living room, myself having been locked in a state of almost-heart-attack ever since I'd stepped foot inside the damn place.

"Henry!" Lockie popped up from over my head. "You'll get in trouble sayin' bad words!"

"Like you don't already know all the bad words," Henry countered.

"Nuh-uh!" Lockie protested furiously.

"Am I allowed to finish the story?" I asked, loudly.

"Yeah, let him finish the story!" Katie insisted, sitting so close that she was practically in my lap.

I'd already told about 10 different work stories that I'm absolutely sure both Emma and Lara would kill me for telling, but I wasn't about to stop anytime soon. It seemed to be the one thing that captivated everyone (even Emma's Dad kept chiming in every now and then from where he was pretending to help clear the table) and if there was one thing I wanted to do, it was get these people thinking I was fabulous! So, telling the story of the old lady who'd kicked my arse once over unpaid fines it was.

Lara kept calling over at Lockie and telling him to calm down, but the kid was a livewire. Turns out it was his fourth birthday, and earlier today had been his party with several friends from preschool. You'd think that it would have tired the kid out and that he'd be passed out by seven o'clock, but NOPE. Emma's predictions were right; the copious amounts of cake and sweets consumed meant he was still crashing around, climbing the sofa behind me and occasionally falling on my head, at roughly 10.30 at night. Lara kept apologising, but Lockie was kinda amusing, so I didn't mind as much.

Emma glanced at me from where she was currently taking plates off her dad. Her nose scrunched up as she grinned and I shot her a look that I knew she had to be able to understand as, 'you owe me big time'.

"Freeeeed," Lockie tugged on the short strands of my hair then. "Finish the story!"

"How are you still awake?" I asked.

"I'm not sleepy."

"You can stay awake all night, huh?"

Lockie nodded against my head, so I finished the story just for him. Henry was in awe, Katie was a thousand shades of red and it looked like that even Ben and Peter were trying not to make it obvious that they were listening intently. Martin, on the other hand, wasn't even pretending that he was helping to clean up. When I'd first turned up just before dinner was about to be served, I'd been practically bombarded by the force of the Terry family and could barely remember who was who. Eventually, I'd remembered that Peter was the brother who'd forgotten to plan their parent's wedding anniversary, and that Martin was his boyfriend. "The lady actually got the drop on you?" he asked excitedly.

"Martin, don't pretend you know what you're even talking about!" Peter yelled over the room.

"Ignore him. I watch plenty of cop shows."

"What do you mean, Uncle Martin?" Lockie asked.

"That this lady kicked my arse," I said. "Oh, wait, am I allowed to say that in front of the kid?"

"Henry's mouth has already corrupted 'im, don't worry," Katie said.

"Yeah, I've discovered all you Terry's have that effect."

"So that means Emma's a screamer," Katie hissed at Lara across the room.

I practically choked. "Katie!"

But Lara was laughing. "Ok! I think it's high time the birthday boy quit climbing over everyone," she said, moving over and hauling out her son upside down from behind us.

"Muuuuum!"

"Don't you 'Mum' me, we've already let you up way past your bedtime," Lara held her son tightly to her chest, his little feet waving next to her face as he giggled. "Time to start winding down, now. Let's go read some of your new books. Do you want me, or Dad?"

"I want Uncle Fred!"

Several pairs of eyes turned to me as I laughed it off. Lara, bless her, insisted that the boy give Uncle Fred a break and instead, enlisted Ben to start reading to him in the corner. Everyone started moving then, leaving me to watch Lockie settle onto his father's lap in the battered-looking armchair in the corner of the lounge, rubbing his eyes as he insisted he wasn't tired.

I honestly hadn't known quite what to expect when I'd taken up Emma's offer to come to dinner. It wasn't as if I was opposed to the Uncle Fred role. Hell, Clara had permanently set up camp inside a teeny weeny place in my heart, so I was going to be 'Uncle Fred' to at least somebody for the rest of my given life. Lockie was roughly the same age as Max Lupin, who also called me Uncle Fred, so I could understand how Emma's nephew might throw out the term. But I hadn't exactly expected that!

There was a lot about this evening that I hadn't expected, and it was admittedly paralysing me a little.

I'd barely gotten to speak to Emma all evening, now that I thought about it. Ever since I'd walked in the door, her family had been all over me, and she'd simply let them. Apparently, the days of her parent's wedding anniversary party and her being slightly embarrassed were gone! She was embracing the full weirdness of the Terry family, as she should be, considering what the Weasley's were like. She thankfully didn't seem to care anymore about filtering her parents or even that her childhood home was small and cramped. Hell, I liked the place! It reminded me of my parents' house in a way, with the odd splashes of magic here and there, thin hallways and narrow staircase to try and take up as little room as possible. There was yelling every now and then through the walls of the neighbours on the other side, and I'd noticed that the area outside had been a little rough, but it was nice in here. I liked it in here.

But as a result, I was blindsided and mostly overwhelmed.

"All right, I did the cooking, so I refuse to wash up!" Peter announced from the kitchen doorway, hands on hips.

"Excuse me, you did ALL the cooking?" Lara glared.

"Fine, Lara and I don't have to wash up," Peter sighed.

"You can't make me do it!" Henry piped up at once. "I'm the only one who can't do magic yet, it won't be fair!"

"Fine, we won't pick on the midget either," Peter teased his brother.

"Your father and Emma cleared the table," Rebecca Terry said, taking charge like a natural. "Martin, Henry, Katie, you can clean up in here, including that–" She gestured to the sheer explosion of wrapping paper, currently shoved out of the way in a corner. How a four-year-old had managed to shred 6 square feet of paper into an avalanche was anyone's mystery. "Fred and I can wash up."

Everybody set to their tasks with a shuffling of feet and more teasing each other, so that it was several moments before I realised what situation I'd somehow landed myself in. "Heads up, Fred!" Rebecca was calling, throwing a tea towel in my direction, and it hit my face uselessly.

"Is your mother going to murder me?" I hissed at Emma as I passed.

"Possibly. Nice knowin' ya."

"Fuck you."

She snorted with laughter, shoving me in the direction of the kitchen.

I took a deep breath.

Rebecca was already at the sink, filling it with soapy water. Emma's mother didn't exactly scare me. I'd met her before, technically, and that first time had been terrifying enough. Now, I knew that she was really just a sweetheart, but that didn't stop me from hesitating in the entrance to the kitchen. She was roughly a head shorter than me, with black curly hair the same texture as Emma's and it was weird to see bits of Emma in her. People look at me and my parents and automatically see the dark coloured skin from my mum, but often fail to notice any of my dad in me. I thought trying to pick out features of Mr and Mrs Terry in Emma would be just as difficult, but all of the Terry siblings were obviously theirs. This family felt more connected than I think I ever felt to my immediate family.

"Step on up, Fred!" Rebecca called, now directing the scrubbing brush with her wand. She sent a clean and wet plate whizzing through the air and I ended up catching it in my arms hastily. "Gotta think on your feet in this house!"

"I'm starting to notice," I answered, stepping up next to her.

We began a rhythm of washing and drying in a comfortable silence. A radio blared out pop songs somewhere which Rebecca hummed and bopped along to. I wondered for a while if I was actually going to get out of this kitchen without a third degree after all, but apparently, I always think too soon.

"So how long have you known Emma, then?" Rebecca asked innocently, dumping a large stew pot on me.

"Uh …" I stumbled under the weight. "I dunno … couple years now, I guess."

"You guess? You mean the date you met isn't burned into your memory?" Rebecca teased.

"It was Halloween, if that helps?"

"I suppose," Rebecca was thankfully still good-natured as we continued washing up. "So how come I'm only just meeting you properly now, then?"

I snorted without meaning too. Try years of idiocy, Mrs Terry.

"I – erm – we didn't really know each other that well the first year or so," I shrugged. "We didn't really become friends at all until my cousin's wedding, last November."

"Sometimes I can't believe I've got an actual Weasley standin' in my kitchen," Rebecca said.

"We are a rare breed," I grinned. "Don't worry, my uncle is the one people actually care about. My parents are George and Angelina, we're not as famous."

Rebecca laughed. "Oh, to be famous! You must tell your parents that they have to come over for dinner sometime."

"What – oh, no–" I stammered, glancing over at her. "You really don't have to–"

"Nonsense," Rebecca cut in over me. "Of course we have to! Alex and I would love to meet them."

I could literally only imagine what a joint dinner with my parents and the Terrys would be like, and I'd had enough emotional hurdles for one evening! I couldn't even imagine it without losing my mind. I stayed concentrating on the tea towel in my hand, drying plates and dishes as they came without magic. I felt like I needed to come up with something new to say, otherwise I might hear something come from Rebecca's mouth that I'd rather not, but I struggled for words. Determined not to screw up and make her hate me, I had no idea what was considered a safe topic of conversation over washing dishes!

"Do you love my daughter?"

"FUCK–"

I accidentally dropped a serving dish and it hit the floor with a loud CRACK that split the dish in two. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry, Mrs Terry–"

"Oh, it's fine!" Rebecca giggled, repairing the dish in a second, levitating it back up into her hands. "Although, maybe I'll put this one away."

"You … you went from zero to a hundred real quick there," I mentioned, weakly.

"I was building up. So seriously, do you love Emma?" Rebecca asked again.

I stared for a moment.

"How … how much has she told you?"

"Enough to know that this question should be included," Rebecca smirked.

"Stealthy."

"You're also not answering me still, I've noticed."

I stared at the cup in my hands that I was currently drying. Thankfully, the tea towel gave me something to do. 'Overwhelmed' just didn't cover it anymore! I was officially over my limits now, every inch of me screaming to get out of there. I genuinely liked Rebecca, and she was only asking questions that any mother would ask, but blimey my head was spinning!

What the ever-loving fuck do I say?

"If … if I answered yes," Dear lord, was my voice cracking? "Would you be surprised?"

"Not in the slightest."

I got the courage to look over at her. "How come?"

"This entire evenin', those looks you've been givin' her across the table? Be careful, mate," Rebecca chortled. "That's how I ended up married with five kids!"

"And … and you don't want to murder me?"

"Well, I've heard a few of the stories," Rebecca said, scrubbing the last few plates and handful of cutlery now. "Emma doesn't talk to me that much – apparently I'm embarrassing or something – but I've gathered enough information. You're a damn sight better than the last boyfriend she had."

"But I'm not – we're not–" I closed my eyes tightly, my tongue stuck in my throat. "Thank you, Mrs Terry."

"Please! Call me Rebecca."

"Rebecca. Thank you for not killing me."

"You're welcome. Oh! I think we're done here now," Rebecca glanced around at the now clean dishes, waiting to be put away. "Don't worry, I'll force the kids to tidy the rest. Good team!"

"Yeah," I grinned. "Good team."

Quite honestly, I expected to get waylaid further by Alex Terry. I hadn't really spoken directly to him that much yet, and definitely not one-on-one. Considering the Spanish Inquisition by Rebecca, I expected him to pounce any second now, but apparently, the Dad of the Terry family seemed pretty chill at my presence. Hey, at least someone was.

No, I got further waylaid by Ben.

"You're not leaving yet, are you?" I heard his voice call from the front door.

I glanced back and noticed him in the doorway. The Terry's front garden basically consisted of a stone path that led to a rickety gate and fence, which is where I'd found myself leaning out in the cold. I hadn't intended on coming out here, but after escaping the kitchen I'd murmured to Emma, "I'm just gonna …" and gestured vaguely to the front door. I just needed to get outside for a while, breathe a little, try not to throw up a little. It was working, I promise – I think I was almost ready to go back inside again, I swear! – but apparently it was Ben Terry's turn to take a crack at me.

"Just getting some fresh air," I told him. "Lockie finally fall asleep then?"

Ben shut the front door behind him. "Yeah, start reading to him and he's out like a light. Sorry about him clinging to ya most of the night."

"Nah, it's fine, I'm used to kids."

"You don't have any, right?"

"Not me, no," I said rather quickly. "But my best friend has a baby, and I have a little cousin who's about Lockie's age. You're not here to punch me again, right?"

Ben practically tripped over himself, it was almost comical. "Oh, no!" he said earnestly. "I truly feel so bad about that! Actually, I wanted to talk to ya about it – make sure that we didn't have a problem? Because I genuinely think you're a swell guy, and–"

"Ben, it's fine," I held up a hand, trying not to laugh. "I'm not secretly cursing you, I get it. I can be actually described as a bastard sometimes."

"Emma did always go for that," Ben wrinkled his nose, smiling weakly.

"I'm not here to judge your sister's taste. Although I am incredibly attractive."

Ben snorted. "You're good for her, mate."

I begged to differ mostly, but before I could argue, the front door opened again. "Aha!" Peter joined us outside, closely followed by the two youngest Terrys. Where Emma was, I didn't know, but judging by the looks on their faces and Ben suddenly groaning in exasperation, I suddenly felt my defences go up. Oh shit. They looked like they were planning something. Peter folded his arms as the four siblings advanced.

"I see you cornered him like I asked! Good, good," Peter grinned.

"I didn't corner him," Ben said, worriedly glancing back at me as if afraid I'd blame him. "I promise! Don't you think we're a bit too old for this now, Pete?"

Peter scoffed, stepping forward with Katie and Henry flanking him like some kind of musical villain. I'd always assumed that the second oldest brother was rather tame like Ben, but apparently Peter had a bit of an evil streak that I wasn't quite sure what to do with. "'sup, Fred," he said to me happily. "What Ben here probably has failed to tell ya is that we have a little tradition in the Terry family …"

"I'm sorry, babe," Katie added.

"Should I be scared?" I raised an eyebrow.

"This is ridiculous!" Ben huffed. "He's never gonna come round again!"

"Oh, Benny," Peter laughed, reaching out and hauling his brother into a headlock. As Ben's protests were muffled, I began to wonder who really acted like the oldest sibling in this family. "How little you remember! If he does turns up again, then we know he's a good bloke, right?"

"Can you guys just PLEASE explain what you're about to do to me?" I burst out. "I can't take the pressure!"

Ben tried to wrestle his way out of Peter's arms as Henry piped up eagerly, "Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough! C'mon guys, let's get goin' before Ems realises what we're doin'."

"Oh, Ems already knows," a voice came from the doorway.

It was almost funny to see every sibling's head snap towards Emma. Even Peter let Ben go without protest as suddenly, all of them looked super guilty. "Oh, yeah!" she said, arms folded across her chest as she glared. "Don't think I didn't notice all of ya disappearing' out here!"

"Emmaaaaa!" Peter whined. "Please–"

"What exactly are they gonna do to me?" I called over.

"They're gonna make you take a swim in a duck pond at a park not far from here," Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's a stupid tradition that we haven't done in years and I've got NO idea why these idiots have decided to bring it back now all of a sudden–"

"Emma, just 'cause we haven't done it in a while doesn't mean we can just skip him!" Peter protested, gesturing towards me. "I know you don't use the 'relationship' label, but come the fuck on, girl. He ain't gettin' out of it!"

"Yeah!" Henry piped up.

"You know he's riiiiight," Katie also warbled. "Lara, Martin, they both did it!"

"I've got nothin' to do with this!" Ben added.

"It's three against two, Ben–"

"HEY!" I suddenly yelled over top of the arguing. "I'LL DO IT!"

All five faces turned to me.

Look, don't ask me if I know what I'm doing, because I don't have a bloody clue. All I know is that hey, whatever, it wouldn't be the first time I'd taken a dip in a duck pond! Some rather brutal cases from work had resulted in landing face first in a pile of duck sludge before, after all. It was hardly the worst thing and if this made the Terrys like me, then hell, I was willing to go through with what seemed to be a ridiculous initiation tradition. I wanted to look up at least, tell Emma that it was fine, but I didn't quite know how to reach her eyes.

This was getting …

Real. That's what it was, this was getting so fucking real, I didn't really know how to handle it. Whatever was happening between Emma and I, it was getting harder and harder to avoid talking about. Sooner or later one or both of us was going to snap and say something, anything, and it was the one thing that I had been afraid of ever since I'd thrown caution to the wind and kissed her again. I thought that I'd never be able to handle that conversation, that we would just keep doing this, just sleep together and stay friends and that that would be enough for some undetermined amount of time …

But I think it was starting to become not enough.

Staring Emma's siblings down, I realised that that was honestly where this was going. Somewhere along the lines, being too scared had turned into just being scared. I wasn't afraid of loving her, I'd accomplished that small achievement a while ago, but just achieving that wasn't enough anymore. I wanted to look Emma in the eye one day and be able to say the words without also being blind drunk. I wanted to be able to spoon against her without breaking into a cold sweat. I wanted to just be fucking normal, someone who didn't contemplate running away to France every time the word 'relationship' came up.

Someday.

It was gonna happen someday. I couldn't willingly come to a Terry family dinner and still pretend that it was enough, right? Maybe not now, maybe not for a while, but for the first time ever, I was saying someday. Someday, something was gonna have to change and I was admittedly still a little like Clara, wobbling and still learning to walk, you know? But this was me saying eventually. Eventually, I think I'm gonna ask Emma to hold my hand while I try.

Might as well start by getting thrown into a duck pond.

The Terry siblings were of course all arguing again as Emma thundered, "Don't be ridiculous! Fred, you're not doing anythin'–"

"EMMA, seriously!" I burst out once more, causing everyone to look at me. "I'll do it! C'mon, take me to this pond!"

Peter was laughing. "I like you, mate!"

"You're all divine. Let's just get it over with, yeah?"

Emma fluttered at the edge of the group, half-heartedly protesting, but she didn't try and stop her siblings from flanking me on all sides, practically keeping me at a frog-march as we made our way through the dark streets. Katie was fretting that my hair was going to get ruined, but I think even Emma knew that I wasn't going to be the only one to ever back out of the challenge. The park itself turned out to be little more than a reserve taking up half a block. The man-made duck pond was sizable and deep though, with grassy banks around the edges and groups of ducks quacking in the distance across the water. I shivered at the thought of diving in, but took my shoes off anyway.

"This is honestly ridiculous!" Emma cried as the others all cheered.

"Emma, I'm sorry – but shut the fuck up, yeah?" I tossed a shoe at her lightly.

Emma rolled her eyes as Peter started chanting, the others joining in, their voices soft at first but gathering volume and speed as I walked to the edge of the pond. "FRED! FRED! FRED!" their voices echoed off the dark trees and I threw an exaggerated wink to Emma … before jumping straight in.


"Honestly, what did you expect?" Emma was huffing as I shuffled uncomfortably across my lounge. "You jumped into the home of 50 odd ducks!"

"It wasn't that bad," I insisted.

Emma just turned and shot me a look.

"Ok, so I've probably got shit in my hair."

"You've got shit for brains, more like."

"Hey! I wasn't gonna be the only one who didn't step up and do it!" I said, following her as she aimed for the bathroom. I put away my mercifully dry shoes and followed her down the hallway, meeting her halfway as she emerged with a towel. I accepted it gratefully, having already pulled off most of my soaking clothes when we'd gotten back home.

"We haven't done the Pond Tradition in bloody years," Emma sighed, folding her arms as I towelled off. "I don't even remember the last time we did it. Might've been Mark, even."

"He actually did it?" I snorted.

"Well. He had to be thrown in," Emma smirked a little. "Not everyone's as crazy as you to just jump in willingly."

"How did the whole thing even start?"

"Hogwarts, actually," Emma said, following me into the bathroom as she explained. I dropped the towel and turned on the shower, peeling off the rest of my clothes as she carried on, "I think the first time was with a girlfriend of Ben's, back when it was just Peter and me at school with him. I was like, thirteen or somethin' and Ben was in seventh-year. We were all down by the lake and I seriously did not like this girl. Peter felt the same, and this girl knew it, so she asked what she could do to make us like her. I swear, Peter said 'jump in the lake' as a joke!"

"And she actually did it? Also, are you joining me or what?" I added as I stepped under the spray. Blimey, the dirty water that ran down was a sight I never wanted to see again.

"Are ya kiddin'? You smell disgusting, I'm stayin' out here where it's safe," Emma laughed.

"Suit yourself," I called back over the water. "So seriously, this girl actually jumped in the lake?"

"Seriously! We were so stunned we actually took to the time to get to know her after that. Turns out that girl was Lara and they got married a few years after they left school," Emma was clearly smiling out there. "After that first time, we just kinda kept doing it, I guess. After we left school, obviously we didn't have a lake, so we turned to the good ol' duck pond down the road."

"So did I pass whatever the fuck this weird thing was, then?"

Emma paused a moment. I stuck my head around the shower curtain to see her leaning against the wall, apparently trying not to smile too much. "Yeah," she said, softly. "I'd say you passed pretty well."

"Brilliant. At least your brother didn't try to duel me again," I hid my own smile behind the shower curtain. I went back to washing my hair, anxious to get out and closer to her, as she continued talking.

"So another slight question," she began casually. "but uh, what did my mother end up saying to you earlier?"

"Haha! No way," I called back. "That is between Rebecca and myself! We're best friends, now."

"Bullshit," Emma scoffed. "She scared you so much that you're repressing the memory."

"You know, you keep playing it up, and I'll admit that you Terrys are a weird bunch," I said. "but you gotta face it: you're just not as crazy as you seem to think you are."

"You can't compare us to your family, that's not fair!"

"We do take the cake with family weirdness."

"Still. I hope she was good."

"She was totally fine. Only asked me several uncomfortably painful questions."

"Only?" Emma said in amusement. After moment, as the suds in the shower were starting to finally run clean and I'd gotten a majority of the bird shit out of my hair, she added, "But hey. I'm sorry you didn't get to talk that much to me tonight."

"Nah, nah, it's fine," I answered. "Hey, look, I'm mostly clean now! You sure you don't want to join? There's a spot against this shower wall just calling your name …"

"Wow. That's sure gonna entice me."

"Hottest thing you've ever heard, right?"

"I hate you," Emma shook her head. "Get out of there and MAYBE I let you kiss me a little."

"Just a little?"

"You gotta get out first."

I shut off the water, shivers going down my spine as the otherwise cool air hit me. I stepped out, looking for a clean towel, only to notice Emma's slightly glazed look. Sweet Jesus, she always hit me like a freight train. Her eyes didn't stray anywhere higher than my chest, flames dancing in them and it felt like she burned my skin with her eyes alone as her gaze strayed down my body. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to say anything. There's always something about being looked at that gets me. The attention was welcome, and it was always a good feeling to realise that someone could appreciate you like that. And not only did Emma blatantly stare at me, but she also seemed to be into my 'personality' as well or whatever, so one had to give her credit.

I smirked at her and she jumped slightly, glancing away.

"No, no! Clearly you want to get on top of all this, so I'm not gonna stop you," I grinned.

"Shut up," Emma scoffed.

"But I'm hot, right?"

"It's admittedly better now that you don't smell as much," Emma was still looking away, but I noticed the blush working its way up her neck, staining her pale cheeks red. I laughed and moved over to her, but she cringed back.

"No, wait! Fred, stop – you're all wet!"

"That should be my line later," I said.

"Oh my god – nooooo!" she shrieked as I pounced, trapping her arms against her side and hauling her in tight against my wet skin. She kicked her legs, tried to escape, but it was too late, her clothes were going to be damp and moist now. "I HATE YOUUU!" she whined.

"No you doooon't!" I held her tighter.

"You are terrible – GET OFFFFFFF!"

"You're hot, too," I whispered dramatically into her ear.

She burst out laughing.


A/N: THE TERRY FAMILY ATTAAAAACKS! I think it's safe to say that I love every single one of them. Look at my baby slowly growing up more and more each chapter! I honestly never thought we'd reach this point when I first started this story, I really didn't.

I'M SO SORRY this took longer than expected! I'm still nnnggggnnnn about life atm, but I'm slowly getting back on track with updating this thing. :) THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYBODY, your comments mean the world to me. x

Please let me know what you think! I love you!

- Moon xoxo